Operation Lily Put - Heading Home: The end of the journey

When I'd had a bit of a break and felt less like I was going to fall over from heat, I headed out to find my departure gate. Looking the train up on the screen, I headed off to the north concourse, for gate 19. As simple as that, right?  Not so much. It was cordoned off, and I look to my right to see a long line of folks in a glassed off waiting area.   I still had a ton of time before the train was due to leave so I wasn't worried. At least not until I tried to find my way into the waiting area, and saw the line snaking along through crowds of people. There were very few places to sit, and it felt like being at an airport when all the flights have been delayed. Announcements were made, but it was horribly hard to understand them. I figured out that the line wasn't for my train, so I went into the outer waiting area and found a squeaky bench to sit on. I had forgotten to get any more snacks or drinks, so I headed out to find a shop in the station, when I saw there were pop machines by the door. They had the little touchless icon, and I'd been using my phone to pay for everything so far, so I thought I'd give it a shot.

Worked like a charm, and I got a nice cold Diet Pepsi, delivered to the receptacle by a robot arm and everything. I remember back in the 90's hearing about the fact that some scandanavian country, I want to say Finland, had everything hooked up to their phones.   They could literally get something from a vending machine just by using their phone.  Incredible!   And here we are, just thirty short years later and we're able to do the same!

I had a long diatribe about the Amish passengers.  But decided just to summarize. I don't know their story, but it's got to be hard trying to be low-tech and having to interact with our modern systems. I will admit I was having some serious Handmaid's Tale flashbacks.   And while waiting in the Longest Line Ever, some kind soul decided to let them cut into line.   And then they let someone else cut in front of them, and my particularities about queueing just tweaked a bit.

I was, however finally cool, thanks to some giant fans in the waiting area. They didn't announce my train but clearly nobody knew what the line was queueing for, so I got in at the end. By the time I was worried about how long the line would take, and how many people were in front of me vs departure times, the line began to crawl forward. As it turns out nobody knew if it was for our trains or a different one, but we all queued and by the time I got to the front it was a line for anyone with a ticket. I get through the front of the line and am directed to a train and from there guided into the right coach.   A little crowded, but really not bad at all.   My fears of having to fight for a bad aisle seat were unfounded, and we're almost to Minnesota and nobody is sitting next to me.

Amtrak is serious about masks.  Got a gaiter, or a bandana mask?  Fail.  Shield instead of mask?  Fail.  Haven't got your mask over your nose?  Fail. They were handing out generic masks to people who didn't have the right kind on, and I was very impressed at how clear they were.

After the train had barely started, they had a long announcement reiterating those rules, as well as clarifying behaviors. Like, keep the mask on unless you're eating.  But if you're drinking, you should be able to keep it mostly on. If you're eating, you literally have to be taking a bite of food.  Chewing?  Mask on.  Breathing between bites?  Mask on. Most everyone was compliant, though someone at the check-in line had gotten animated about their gaiter not qualifying. It did seem like the Amish folk had a problem with their giant beards.

When we got to Milwaukee it was sunny by had clearly just rained. I'd been watching storms go across Minnesota and Wisconsin, and eventually we found one. Some stiff wind and a huge downpour, but it didn't last long. It is now raining extremely hard.  I have every confidence trains are hard to blow over though. One of the best things about travelling. If it's raining, you're likely to drive away from it or pass through quickly. Before long it was golden sun again and green fields of Wisconsin. We stopped for a bit of a delay as the power had gone out and the signals weren't working. Whatever community that was, they figured it out quickly, and we were back on our way. I don't care, as it's my last leg.   But it wouldn't be a train journey without some kind of delay.

We did pick up more passengers in Millwaukee. I tried to do my best "you don't want to sit next to me" attitude, but that doesn't work very well because I'm polite. Someone paused and I was typing fiercly and they moved on. I think they may have read the previous posts and knew I would be clicking away for hours.

Headed off to the observation car to see what was up there, and it was fairly full. I had no interest in sitting in there though, as it was a nice open area with comfortable chairs and had a good community feel. Meaning everyone was chatting with each other.  Check, please! I figured out that the snack car (diner car?  club car?  food getting car?) was just down the stairs and rolled the dice. Thankfully, it was a straightforward system.   Attendant behind a counter/glass and options on the wall. A hot dog, cheese plate and a Coka later and I'm back on my way to my seat. So technically I got a Chicago-sourced Hot Dog. They were making announcements about people with reservations in the dining car at various intervals. So clearly there was another food getting car, but I wasn't interested.

A little more writing, some chatting with my sister over Facebook, and half of Driving Miss Daisy helped me pass the afternoon.

At the Wisconsin Dells stop we got to see the same Dells businesses Lily and I saw on the way east.  And the actual Dells, of course.

Ghost Boat!

There was no wifi on the train, so I was tethering off my phone just enough to listen to music and save drafts of the blog entries. The previous train from NY to IL had wifi, you just had to accept their terms and you were in- but it wasn't very fast and streaming was not a viable option. My phone had fair coverage, but the more rural it got, the more the signal dropped out.  The things we have to put up with when being zipped across the state at 70 miles per hour.

Wisconsin looks like this

Wisconsin also looks like this.  Over and over again.

I had been advised back at home that when we get to Tomah that was my cue to score a seat in the observation car.  I wasn't into that, but I had picked a seat on the advised side of the train, and since I was in the upper of a double floor car, I figured I'm high enough to enjoy the scenery.

I can't help but think about the Hudson river as we cross the Mississippi. It's not just coming home to Minnesota, but to *my* river.   The trees look right, the islands scattered in the channels look right, even the surface of the river looks right. The Hudson was an amazing river because it was so pretty, and I'd read about the ships and boats both large and small that had plied those waters for the first time. Men rushing to find the next location for a fort or trading place.   Wars between men of all different nations, going so far back in the history of the country that some of it happened before it was even a theory:  The United States. When I look at a river I love to look at it through the eyes of the men who saw it hundreds of years ago.  

Imagining how far we are from the things of man, and any hope of rescue should something happen. Also of the people who called this home, and used the rivers and forests as their own highways from community to community. I think of our neighborhoods and what the land must have been like before houses and streets. Before time was measured and hardship was shared but routine. The light is fading, and we're not likely to have much of a view of Pepin, at least the top end of it. And I've seen this river a hundred times, it's nothing new.   But it's the something old about it that I really love. For so many years the water has been slowly slipping down the Mississippi, just as it has the Hudson and every river creek and brook in between. It also marks the halfway point of the country, in many ways, and reminds me that I've just gone from this place I call home all the way to the ocean and it's long history - and back to mine. Taking the train home has been fun, but I forgot to think about it's own history.   The generations of families taking the train to their homesteads. The traders and business people travelling by train on the exact same path I just took. Their rides weren't quite as comfortable as mine, but I'm sure they were a hundred times more exciting. And even though I'm not journeying to make my mark on the world, or my fortune, or even a simple existence for my family,

It's so good to be home.   

Operation Lily Put - Heading Home: A slight diversion, or, how I got heat exhaustion

<record scratch>  Short walk?  I don't think so.

Pretty Architecture!

My little family has a proud tradition of taking the four of us (me, wife, two kids) on Legendary Death Marches. We've done it so often it's hard to think of examples. I know we did one in New York when we had at least one baby and my mother with us. All I remember from that one was darkness, bright headlights at a highway tunnel, and having to cross that street. But seeing the Statue of Liberty from afar in the cold dark night was worth it.

And apparently I just whipped up a Legendary Death March myself! At some point I realized Route 66 starts in Chicago. So I looked it up, and the intersection wasn't too far off.   Maybe 6 blocks?  Less than a mile.  Ok, almost a mile. But I had plenty of time and it was nicely air conditioned in the lounge as I planned the trip, so I thought it would be pleasant enough to go outside. Outside, by the way, wasn't pleasant enough. It was blast furnace hot with the sun turned up to full blast. Humidity so thick it felt like I was in Baltimore again. I am really ready to be back on the tundra, or at least in familiar air conditioning.

So here's where I went, complete with pictures:

Walk down Jackson Blvd a few blocks and cross the river on a cool lift bridge.

I saw many tourists, but also some random sketchy looking people who looked like they were doing risk probability math in their heads.

But they didn't bother me.

Also, I had my "I'm from the city" face on, the one that would make Mom think I needed a hug.

I realized while waiting at a light that I am directly under the Sears Tower/Willis tower, and took a picture as a selfie without the self because it was too tall to aim at.

Walked another couple blocks to Calder's Flamingo, a "Monumental 1974 abstract sculpture" and the location of the free cigarettes mentioned previously.

Also I'm pretty sure a shot like this was in Ferris Bueller's Day Off

I remember being very impressed by the sculpture when I saw it, and have always wondered when people don't know Calder.

I guess I thought if someone could make something that big and impressive, everyone would know who they were.

Continuing on I pass by The Berghoff, the only German restaurant in Chicago.

Saw the Art Institute of Chicago ahead and there were street signs talking about a Banksy exhibit somewhere.

I'm not sure if that makes me happy or sad for Banksy, to be honest.

You're going to want to come back to this image later in the post.  Specifically to locate a detail on the left side of the image.

Saw the Lions, not too crowded, but it'll get worse.

I saw a sign I'd seen on the east coast that interested me.

It was the handicap logo, but had an energy of motion to it.

I took a picture of this one as I wanted to remember to look it up and see what's happening there.

Turns out it's trying to update the old logo and verbiage for better inclusivity for all disabilities, etc. which I'm fully supporting now.

Ok, I figure if I've come this far I should go far enough to see Lake Michigan, right?

So on another block or two and there it is!

Unfortunately, I forgot to get a picture of the largest lake within hundreds of miles, so here's a picture of me at Lake Michigan in 2005 looking like a goofy dad for the kids.

Oh wait, something said Millennium Park.

That's where the mirror bean thing is, isn't it.

Fine, another couple blocks, past fountains and gardens, mass yoga in the park, etc.

Oh and there it is, all reflective and so on.

Didn't even go up for a boring selfie, just "click" the camera button and keep walking.

This made me think of something interesting.

When you go see something famous like this, which has been photographed so, so, so many times, what makes you think your camera phone is going to be better than anyone else's, much less professional photographers?

So I propose a new way of doing tourism:  The Google Image Search Tour Philosophy.

When you get to something like the bean, rather than taking a picture, do a google image search for it.

Pick the best image that most closely resembles the bean on that day, and save it.

Boom.  Perfect picture and you're not even in the way of it.

Yes, there are some limitations, like not having your child Scout, Tyler, Ashley or Siobhan in the picture when they're five years old.

But that's what photoshop is for and they didn't even want to be in a picture.

So now you've just saved the whole family the resulting grumpiness and then tantrum because your son Ruttiger really didn't even want to go on this trip in the first place, and now you're taking a picture of him and he's not at all happy about it, etc.

I think this concept has legs!

You saw this image at the top of the post, but it really illustrates the fact that there is a ton of beautiful architecture but after a while it all starts looking the same.

Got some pictures of cool Chicago Architecture, and finally made it to Jackson and Michigan, where Route 66 starts. Except Jackson is a one way in the wrong direction.

 

I eventually found a sign, and it said it was the END of route 66.

 

Weren't you supposed to "motor west?" Not on that one-way the wrong way!  I had an internal conniption about that for some time, until I was looking up street names for this entry and noticed that Adams goes the right way, and apparently it has a "Historic Route 66 Begin Sign" Not only was I dumb enough to be confused, but I actually had to walk past it. And what do you know? I actually got a picture of the back of that Mother Hubbard when I was admiring the Banksy posters.

 

I just spent an awful long time on google maps verifying that this is indeed the sign that indicates the beginning of route 66. Thus allowing us to motor west, much to my relief. I'm an idiot. It's not like that was the Only Reason I Went On This Death March!

On my way back I got a classic image of being under an El. 

By this time I was completely drenched in sweat. And possibly starting a sun burn. Jeans for the train good, not so much for the 2.7 mile walk I just took. I was starting to feel a bit.. ethereal? Every once in a while a crosswalk would have a constant heavy wind, and that would cool me enough for a few blocks.

I know it's not all of Chicago, but that's an awful lot of iconic Chicago items. 

And I did all of that (2.7 miles!) in 45 minutes.  

I checked the timestamps.  That's an average of 3.6 mph.

 

But by the time I got to the main entrance at Union Station, and headed down the "Untouchables" stairs (or not, remember the mirror trick) I thought I might tumble down them light the stroller in that movie. But I was fine, and also discovered that the air conditioning in there was super cold! I sat on the furnished benches and tried to concentrate on cooling off and maybe drying a bit. Just as I thought I might have it under control, a drop of sweat falls from my face onto the floor, as if scripted.

Went to the nice lounge, got a clean shirt out of my big suitcase, changed into it in the bathroom (in a stall!) and found a place to sit, try and continue the cool down, and write some travelogue.  It wasn't until I was changing my shirt that I realized I hadn't put my mask back on. So I just paraded through Union Station looking like an anti-masker. It's things like this that will make me want to just abandon all of my stuff, taxi to the airport, buy an expensive ticket and just fly home rather than show my face again.  Good thing I'm wearing a mask, nobody will recognize me. But I was fine, and appreciated the fact that I had a nearly full water bottle.

Operation Lily Put - Heading Home: The overnight train ride

 

Saturday (with some Friday night mixed in)

I climbed into my top bunk -- and I mean climbed. I don't know how anyone less mobile than me would do it. Wasn't sure if I wanted to sleep in my clothes, or set up a whole bedtime thing. Decided on sleeping in my clothes, as they had already been sweated through a couple times, and I was going to need to change them in the morning anyway. There were too many pillows, and two Amtrak blankets that were so nice I considered stealing one of them. The bed itself was fairly comfortable, and there was a seatbelt/web on the lower half so you might not roll out of bed.   Except there wasn't a barrier on the "top" half and I spent a lot of the night worrying I was about to go headfirst out of the bunk. It ended up being really almost too warm and by the end of the night I was in full pajama mode. I didn't pull out the CPAP because there really wasn't anywhere to put it, and I didn't want it to fall off. Also, I was alone in the roomette and couldn't hear anything from the other roomettes all day, so I figured if I snored it would be okay. Just couldn't sleep.   My legs wanted to run a marathon, my brain wanted to go to sleep, and my instinct to survive was trying to be as close to the window as possible so I didn't fall off. Ok, maybe it was all the caffeine after 4pm.   I am old, after all.

[Correction:  Turns out I was backwards.  You climb up to the rack and then head into the bed, so the webbing to keep you in is focused on the upper body, and the slightly narrow portion of the bed is where your feet are.  Also makes more sense that you would climb "up and in" rather than "up and try and get your legs turned around and in."  Thanks to a discussion with the wife about the arrangements.  I think I'll bring her with me next time so I don't sleep in a bed wrong again!]

Me, in bed.  Loved the Amtrak Blanket!  Oh and to the right on the wall is a little purse-like thing you can put your glasses/phone/whatever in while you sleep.  Conveniently placed for those people smart enough to sleep the right direction in the bed.

Above:  Spot for luggage, but mine got to sit in a seat.
Below:  Curtains over the door and window to passageway
Left:  One of the webbing straps to keep you in bed

The train was pretty quiet beyond the train noises - no loud neighbors or people in the hallway. The rocking of the train was actually quiet nice and I didn't feel too nauseated. I woke up way too early many times.   Finally checked the clock, as I was sure my 7am alarm was about to go off.   It was 3:15.

In the end I feel like I got about three hours sleep, but don't think it's the roomette's fault. Got out of bed groggy and not wanting to interface with humans, so breakfast was out. I really wanted some coffee, but wasn't willing to put in the actual work to get any.   So I had free bottled water and three mini tootsie rolls. Breakfast of champions.

The view from my upper window when I woke up.  Bad angle, motion blurry, partially out of focus

 and it's one of my favorite pictures from the trip.  I also feel like it resembles the paintings my great-uncle Pitt used to create.

Here's a quick tangent to describe where I sat most of the ride..

On the left, the long curtain is over the sliding door.  You can lock the door from the inside but not the outside.  The next curtain covers the window to the passageway.  All curtains were heavy, had velcro to make them stick to the opposite velcro on the frame, so you could really feel the privacy.

Top to bottom in the middle:  Mirror with hand towels and lotion soap.  Below that, on the left are attendant call buttons and flush button for the toilet, and most importantly two full AC power outlets.  On the right side of those is a fold down sink.

You can see my mask and one of the free water bottles on the extremely useful shelf, which doubles as the second "step" up to the top bunk.  Below all of that is the toilet.  The illustration on the wall explains how to use the space-toilet.  It's pretty straightforward, much like an airline toilet, but one layer above the toilet lid is that reddish countertop.  It folds up for toilet use, but when down it's a handy place to put things that you respect so little you would put them on a toilet.  It did not smell like a toilet or smell at all, and the fact that it was by the curtains meant you could hold the curtains more tightly against the wall to avoid anyone seeing you - but you didn't have to, as the curtains were rock solid.  To be honest, if I hadn't seen it on the layout map of the room in my research, I could have completely missed that there was a toilet there.  So handy to have your own though!

Opposite the toilet was a wall with speakers, light switches, and other sundry items. On the far right you can see a curtain, which when pulled back revealed the upper window.  Above the seat you can see a line running down the wall.  That's the track for the bed.  When it was time to set up bedtime, a handle on the "ceiling" of the roomette pulled the top bunk bed down from the actual ceiling.  When it was down, you could still use the chairs, etc. but couldn't fully stand up.  In addition to the top bunk, the main seats could be slid together and folded back, then a second mattress went on those.  When that was set up you would still have a foot or so between the bottom bed and the door.  Tight fit, but workable.  For one person it was just gadget heaven and I loved it.  If I were sharing the roomette it would have to be someone I am intimate with, as it's a small space.  But not get intimate, because those beds were tiny!

Finally in Chicago, now it's the normal drill.  Get large suitcase through impossibly narrow hallway and break into the fresh air of the terminal. Hot, humid, diesel-ey fresh air. I notice there is a large group of Amish-like folks getting off the train.   I don't know what exact flavor they are, so I'm going to call them Amish. I'm sorry if that's wrong and I offend anyone, but to be honest they're not going to be reading this if they're any good at spurning the technologies of the "English."

Made my way to the Grand Hall, because I really enjoy seeing beautiful station architecture, and it seemed like a good place to start. I don't remember being there before but it was indeed impressive. And they even had benches for the unwashed masses to sit on! Looking around it occurred to me that the stairs from the movie Untouchables was probably nearby, and it turns out they were right behind me. Ok, so I don't know if it was the north stairs or south stairs, but they're identical except for the orientation.   So if I did get it wrong, please hold your computer up to a mirror when you look at the image.  Way too lazy to check for myself.

Found a Dunkin' Donuts and got a Latte and a breakfast sandwich, rightfully thinking the three tootsie rolls weren't probably enough. I also found the special people lounge right off the grand hall, as well. It wasn't anywhere near as nice as the one in New York, and there were a lot more people who had access. But it was a clean, well lighted place and they had lots of couches. Honestly it was worth it just to have a place to leave my big suitcase while I waited. It was a 4-ish hour layover and I had some time to kill. I noticed that even sitting still on a comfy couch I could still feel the train rocking back and forth.   That continued on through my layover and now I'm back on a train typing this, so I don't know how long it will last when I get home!

Even though I was tired, I thought I might take a walk outside.  Just a short one, maybe see some architecture.  What could go wrong?